This month’s Jack Benny salute rolls on with an October 27, 1946 broadcast that features one of the show’s funniest “bloopers.” Announcer Don Wilson takes the listener back to previous week just as last week’s show has ended, which featured a spoof on the radio show The Whistler (“The Fiddler”):

MARY: I’ll never forget the look on your face when you opened the door where you thought the murderer was and found the Quartet instead…

JACK: Ah yes, them…you know, Mary, those guys are driving me nuts…I wish there was some way I could get rid of them…if I could just…say! I’ve got it!

MARY: Oh no, Jack—where would you hide the bodies?

JACK: I wasn’t thinking of that…anyway, I gotta figure out some way…

MARY: Jack…let’s stop in the drugstore for a snack…

JACK: Well…look, Mary—it’s only five o’clock…if you wait ‘til later, I’ll take you out and buy you a full-course dinner…

MARY: I’m no gambler, I’ll take a sandwich now…

They enter the drugstore, and are waited on by—who else?—Jack’s sardonic nemesis, Frank Nelson ("Yesssssssss???"). In placing their orders, Mary asks for a “chiss sweese” (Swiss cheese) sandwich, which breaks up both the audience and the cast. (The writers, who never missed an opportunity to capitalize on the cast’s fluffs, worked in several “chiss sweese” gags in subsequent broadcasts.) Jack and Mary are soon joined by his gang—Dennis Day, Don Wilson and Phil Harris. When Phil complains about Jack leaving without paying the check, Jack shoots back: “You and Dennis can split it—you’ve both got shows of your own now.”

Jack returns home, and he’s still disgruntled about the Sportsmen:

JACK: That quartet that sings the commercials drives me crazy…

ROCHESTER: Boss, I think it’s nice to have music with the commercials…

JACK: Rochester—all Wilson has to say is: L.S.M.F.T…L.S.M.F.T…Lucky Strike means fine tobacco…yes, Lucky Strikes means fine tobacco…so round, so firm, so fully packed…so free and easy on the draw…that’s all he has to say, and people will walk down to the nearest store and buy Lucky Strikes…

ROCHESTER: I know…but if you do it with music, they’ll dance down…

Jack decides to call it an early night, and he drifts off to sleep with the radio, only to have a wild and wacky dream in which he murders the Quartet and is put on trial. I love the Benny shows that feature dream sequences, since they have this Kafkaesque nuttiness about them; this one is extremely funny, allowing the entire cast to participate and do jokes based on the catchphrases (“To each his own,” “Eastern Columbia, Broadway and Ninth,” and “Greenberg’s on third”) that were popular on the program at that time:

JACK: Dennis…Dennis, you…my lawyer?

DENNIS: Certainly…don’t you remember, you hired me for thirty-five dollars a week…

JACK: But…but, kid…I only hired you to sing on my radio program…

DENNIS: Yes, but in the fine print of my contract, it says I have to be your lawyer when I’m not mowing your lawn…

(snip)

PHIL: Hiya, Jackson…

JACK: Phil…Phil, what are you doing here?

PHIL: I’m the district attorney…and I ain’t gonna rest until you’re executed…

JACK: Phil, you’re the district attorney? You’ve got two shows now…

The second show on this CD showcases a joke that in many ways captures the essential essence of the Jack Benny character; namely, Jack’s narcissistic and self-deluded assertion that he was only thirty-nine years old. In his book, The Jack Benny Show, writer Milt Josefsberg explains the joke’s origins:

Jack wasn’t always thirty-nine. When we first fibbed about his age on the radio, his birth certificate indicated that he was in his fifties, but we made him thirty-six. The only reason for selecting this figure was because we could have him hammily say, “I’m thirty-six—a perfect thirty-six.”

Jack remained thirty-six years old for three years, which is one less than my wife did. He became thirty-seven with much flourish. Then on his next birthday we had a line, not on our radio program, but given to the press by Jack: “Thirty-seven is such a nice age I’ve decided to hold it over for another year.” And he did. Thirty-eight lasted longer because we were fast approaching forty, a figure we were loath to reach. After trying on the age of thirty-eight for size and liking it, we stayed with it for a few years, and then we hit the final age, thirty-nine.

So this January 15, 1948 celebrates the big “three-nine”—though Don points out that the events on the show occur the day before (since February 14th—Valentine’s Day—was the actual date of Benny’s birthday). Everyone is planning a party for him, beginning with the Beverly Hills Beavers—a kids’ club whose raison d’etre seemed to be to boost Jack’s fragile ego:

CLIFF: Well, I’m a new member of the Beavers…and I’d like to know who Jack Benny is…

STEVIE: Are you kidding? Don’t you know who Jack Benny is?

CLIFF: No, who is he?

JOY: Who is Jack Benny…he’s only the greatest fullback that Yale ever had…

STEVIE: He quit football because he was afraid to hurting his hands…that would stop him from playing the violin…

JOY: That’s right, Cliff…Mr. Benny is one of the world’s greatest violinists…

CLIFF: Well, if he’s the world’s greatest violinist, how come I’ve never heard of him?

STEVIE: Well, that’s because he’s so modest…he goes under the name of Jascha Heifetz…

The action then switches over to Mary’s residence, as she also makes party plans with help from her maid Pauline (Doris Singleton). Josefsberg observes in his book that originally, the writers wanted to get across the point that Pauline was a little man-crazy, and a joke was written that her favorite dream was “to be a bar of soap in the Brooklyn Dodgers locker room.” This gag, however, did not go over real well with the censor, and they were forced to change “bar of soap” to “Dixie cup.” Mary has ordered a cake for Jack with thirty-nine candles (“…and arrange them in the shape of a question mark.”), but Pauline remains skeptical:

PAULINE: Say, Miss Livingstone…how old is Mr. Benny really?

MARY: Oh, I’m sorry, I can’t tell you…see, Mr. Benny and I have an agreement that saves us both a lot of embarrassment…

PAULINE: An agreement?

MARY: Yes…I never tell anyone his age and he never tells anyone my salary…

PAULINE: But…but, Miss Livingstone…if Mr. Benny pays you so little…how can you afford this nice apartment and all your nice clothes and everything?

MARY: My mother writes for Bob Hope…

We then find ourselves in a pool parlor where Phil Harris and Mel Blanc are shooting a game of pool—Phil tells Mel that the party will be at his place, since he’s just filled his swimming pool. (When Mel points out that it’s a little cold for swimming, Phil informs him that you don’t notice it after you dive in because it’s filled with bourbon.) Then, it’s off to eavesdrop on Dennis Day and his mother (Verna Felton), who’s also maintaining a healthy skepticism on Benny’s age:

VERNA: How old is Mr. Benny today?

DENNIS: Thirty-nine…

VERNA: Thirty-nine indeed…why, I remember seeing him in a vaudeville act with Al Jolson when they introduced the song “Sonny Boy…”

DENNIS: How long ago was that?

VERNA: I don’t remember…but Benny was singing, and Jolson was climbing up his knee…

At home, Jack is brooding, convinced that everyone has forgotten his birthday—and Rochester isn’t much help, although he has a feeling something is troubling Jack (“There’s a rainbow in your little blue eyes.”) Mary calls Rochester to let him know that the gang is on its way over to throw Jack a surprise party (“Well, bring some food with you—the time lock doesn’t open the icebox until six in the morning.”) and Rochester manages to get Jack out of the house. Dejected and angry (“I’ve got a good notion to fire every one of them…if I had any talent, I would...”), Jack takes a walk and then finds solace in a movie theater that’s showing The Horn Blows at Midnight, and he stays there for close to four hours:

MANAGER: I beg your pardon, mister…

JACK: Huh?

MANAGER: I’m the manager of this theater…we’ve shown you The Horn Blows at Midnight three times…now will you please go home so we can close up?

JACK: Okay, okay—by the way, mister…the girl at the box office told me you haven’t sold a ticket all week…

MANAGER: That’s quite true…

JACK: Well, if that’s true, how come there’s someone sitting in almost every seat in this theater?

MANAGER: We rent it out as a storage room to a mortuary…

JACK: A mortuary? You mean all the people in those seats are…that’s amazing!

MANAGER: I’ll say it’s amazing…yesterday, in the middle of the picture three of ‘em got up and walked out…

After waiting around for Jack, Mary and the others end up having to leave, and Jack finds a dark, empty house on his return (though he does get a singing telegram from his sister via a phone call). The next morning, however, Rochester tells his boss about the surprise party and Jack is weeps with joy (“Why, Boss—that rainbow’s comin’ back in your little blue eyes.”)
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Old Home Week in Summerfield

One of the delights of Radio Spirits’ Radio’s Greatest Sitcoms collection is a Great Gildersleeve CD containing two essential programs: the premiere episode, when Gildy arrives in Summerfield, and a show in which Gildy’s former Wistful Vista neighbors, Fibber & Molly McGee, pay a visit. I listened to both of these earlier this morning and was completely and thoroughly entertained.

The inaugural Gildersleeve broadcast of August 31, 1941 uses the same script as the May 14, 1941 audition (for Johnson’s Wax), albeit with a few changes and deletions. Throckmorton P. Gildersleeve (Harold Peary), owner and operator of the Gildersleeve Girdle Works (“If you want the best of corsets, of course it’s Gildersleeve”), leaves his Wistful Vista home and travels to nearby Summerfield in order to take charge of the Forrester estate—his charges being niece Marjorie (Lurene Tuttle) and nephew Leroy (Walter Tetley). On the train, he encounters the individual who soon become his rival and nemesis, Judge Horace Hooker:

GILDY: Ah…pretty crowded in this diner…by George, I’m so hungry I could eat the…waiter!

WAITER: Yes, sir?

GILDY: Is it all right if I sit at this table?

WAITER: Yes, sir…sit right down, sir…

GILDY: If this gentleman doesn’t mind reading his paper on his own side…I said, if this gentleman doesn’t mind reading his paper on his own side…

WAITER: Excuse me, sir…does you mind?

HOOKER: Yes, I do! I’m particular whom I eat with…

GILDY: (Gildy laugh) You are, eh? Well, I’m not—I’m hungry…waiter, bring me a steak—a nice, juicy double tenderloin rare…

HOOKER: Waiter, where’s my milk toast? I ordered it fifteen minutes ago…

WAITER: I’m sorry, sir, but milk toast takes time, you know…

GILDY: …and waiter, I want a big, heaping plate of French fries…

WAITER: Yes, French fries…

GILDY: …and a cup of strong coffee, with lots of cream…

WAITER: I’ll get it right away, sir…

HOOKER: …and bring me my milk toast—made with gluten bread, remember…

GILDY: Oomph…bread…that reminds me…some hot biscuits, and a little pot of jam…

HOOKER: Gluten bread, toasted…and a cup of hot water…

GILDY: …and an apple pie a la mode, with cheese…

HOOKER: I can’t stand this! Listening to you is giving me heartburn!

GILDY: (Gildy laugh) It is, huh? Oh, waiter! Don’t forget the steak sauce…piccalilli…and relish…

HOOKER: Bring me a glass of bicarbonate of soda, quick!

(snip)

HOOKER: I’ll thank you to mind your own business!

GILDY: What’s the big idea of jumping down my throat???

HOOKER: What do you expect, addressing a perfect stranger?

GILDY (seething): You’re far from perfect, stranger…and from now on, I’m going to make a career out of ignoring you…

The insults soon begin to fly: Hooker labels Gildy a “big buffalo” and “overstuffed ox” while the Great Man counters with calling the jurist a “dyspeptic little dodo” and “dried-up little crabapple.” Later, Gildy is forced to nestle his ample frame in an upper berth (“The last time I was in an upper berth was…let me see…fifty pounds ago.”), with Hooker as his downstairs neighbor. The judge’s snoring keeps Gildy wide awake, and he quickly takes care of the cacophony by drenching him with a glass of ice water. Having arrived in Summerfield, Gildy gets reacquainted with Leroy and Marjorie—who’s kept Gildersleeve’s line of work a secret from her brother, or so she thinks. Leroy has gotten hold of a company letterhead, only he’s misread it as “The Gildersleeve Girder Works”:

LEROY: Hey, Unk...will you take me back to Wistful Vista with ya and let me work in your factory?

GILDY: Uh…what? Well, I didn’t think you’d be interested in that sort of thing…

MARJORIE: Now, Leroy…

LEROY: Gee I am, Uncle Mort—that must be some layout…I’ll bet you make the supports for a lot of big projects there…

GILDY: Uh…eh…oh…we don’t turn out anything much like…uh…we sort of confine ourselves to…uh…foundations…heh…yes…

LEROY: Say…I’d like to go along sometime when you install those foundations…

Marjorie explains to her uncle about Leroy’s mix-up, and during breakfast he regales his relations and their attorney (Frank Nelson) of the experience he had with the gentleman on the train. Naturally, when it’s time to appear in the court—who should preside over the legal proceedings but Judge Hooker? Gildy makes a valiant attempt to get in good with his new-found enemy but fails miserably (Leroy isn’t much help, either); Hooker will grant the petition only if Gildersleeve reports to him every week, obtains an okay for every nickel spent, and posts a bond of $50,000 cash.

Gildy pleads with Hooker to lower the bond, but the judge remains firm. So Gildy hits upon the idea of calling home and having the president of the Wistful Vista Chamber of Commerce vouch for his impeccable character—said president being none other than Fibber McGee of 79 Wistful Vista. After a pleasant chat with Fibber, Hooker rescinds the bond order and demands that Gildersleeve post a bond of $100,000. Sputtering, Gildy grabs the phone receiver and utters his famous Fibber McGee & Molly catchphrase, “You’re a harrrrrrrd man, McGee…” It’s a classic episode (and hysterical to boot), giving the new program a proper send-off. My only quibble is that quality control allowed this one to be recorded off-speed like the Father Knows Best entries in the collection.

Though Hal Peary made several appearances on Fibber McGee & Molly after obtaining his spin-off, the January 10, 1943 broadcast of The Great Gildersleeve is the only episode (according to my research) that allows Fibber & Molly to return the favor. I had never heard the program before, and it was a sheer hot-fudge sundae delight. In preparing for the Jordan’s visit, Gildy issues instructions to the family:

GILDY: When McGee arrives this afternoon, there are two things I want you to be careful not to do…in the first place, I don’t want you to make any reference to Fibber’s size…

LEROY: What about it?

GILDY: Well, he’s a little runt, and like all little runts he’s sort of sensitive about it…that’s why he’s so pugnacious…

MARJORIE; Oh, I wouldn’t say anything like that, Uncle Mort…

GILDY: Well, I know you wouldn’t, my dear…but I’m not so sure about Leroy…

LEROY: Wh…what did I say? Did I say anything about him being a runt? You’re the one who brought it up…

GILDY: Just don’t, that’s all…actually, he’s not so small, anyway…it’s just that he’s not as big as he thinks he is…he has the mind of a small man, that’s all…always carrying a chip on his shoulder…

MARJORIE: Oh, we’ll be careful, Uncle Mort…

GILDY: …and another thing—and this applies to both of you…I’d rather you didn’t say anything about my engagement to Mrs. Ransom…

MARJORIE: Oh, but the McGees are your friends, Uncle Mort…they’ll be offended…

GILDY: We’re not announcing the engagement just yet, my dear…we’re, uh, keeping it a secret…

LEROY: Mrs. Ransom isn’t…I heard her talkin’ to Mrs. Pettibone down at the grocery…

GILDY: We’re not announcing it to McGee and that’s final, Leroy…’cause if I know McGee, he’ll start making cracks…and if he makes any cracks about Leila, I’ll punch him in the nose…and if I do that, Molly will be upset, and if she’s upset, it’ll spoil the whole weekend—and that’s what you get for inviting McGee anyway…

Gildersleeve picks up his old friends at the train station, and brings them home his stately manor home—and the more things change, the more they remain the same:

GILDY: Well, this is it, folks…it’s no palace, but it’s home to me…what do you think of it, Molly?

MOLLY: Oh, it’s a lovely place, Mr. Gildersleeve…

FIBBER: Yeah, nice hunk of property you got here, Gildy…

GILDY: A hundred foot front by a hundred seventy-five feet…

FIBBER: That oughta give you room to spread out…and I can see that you have…

GILDY (angrily): What was that, little chum?

MOLLY (scolding): McGee…watch it…

FIBBER: Hey, Throcky—who lives next door there?

GILDY: Next door? Oh, some woman…I forget her name…

MARJORIE: Mrs. Ransom…

GILDY: R-Ran…oh yes, is that it?

MARJORIE: Yes, she’s a widow…

GILDY: Oh…so…

FIBBER: A widow woman, eh? Give you much trouble?

GILDY: Uh, no…no…

MARJORIE: As a matter of fact…

GILDY (interrupting): Marjorie! Heh…suppose you run in and ask Leroy to come out and help with the bags…that’s a good girl…

MOLLY: You know, I think nice neighbors make all the difference in the world…

FIBBER: So do bad ones…we had one once who borrowed our lawnmower and kept it so long he finally had to leave town…then he took the lawnmower with him…

And this exchange is literally worth the price of admission:

GILDY: Let me take your coat, Mrs. McGee…

MOLLY: Oh, thank you…

FIBBER: Where will I put mine, Throcky?

GILDY: Uh, I’ll take it…just hang it up here in the hall closet…

(SFX: door opens)

MOLLY: McGee…

FIBBER: What, Molly?

MOLLY: You see that closet? That’s what I mean…

FIBBER: Well, sure—anyone can keep a closet clean if they don’t use it…

Fibber has forgotten to bring a toothbrush, so he ventures into town to order to purchase one from Summerfield’s drugstore—Richard Quince Peavey (Richard LeGrand), proprietor and pharmacist. (LeGrand was also a Fibber McGee & Molly regular, usually heard in the role of Ole, the Elks Club janitor.):

FIBBER: We’re spending the weekend with a fellow up the street here and I’d like to get a little something for him as a gift…

PEAVEY: Oh…what type of gentleman is he?

FIBBER; Oh, he’s a big fat blowhard…doesn’t do much of anything but eat, sleep and brag…

PEAVEY: I’ve got something here that I think, uh, Mr. Gildersleeve would like…

FIBBER: Oh! You know him…

PEAVEY: Oh yes, he’s in here almost every day…

FIBBER: Oh…

PEAVEY: …and I think if you really want to surprise him, a nice package of bubble bath would do the trick…

FIBBER: Gildersleeve in a bubble bath? (laughing) Boy, he’d look like a blimp comin’ out of a cloud…

PEAVEY: Well, of course it…wouldn’t make much of a wedding gift, if that’s what you have in mind…

FIBBER: Wedding gift? For Gildersleeve?

PEAVEY: Why, haven’t you heard? He’s engaged to marry his next-door neighbor, Mrs. Ransom…

FIBBER: Throcky? Engaged?

PEAVEY: Yes…

FIBBER: Ah, tell me more, tell me more…

Peavey sings like a canary, and Fibber behaves like the cat that swallowed it, returning to Gildy’s and teasing his “chum” about the engagement. For the rest of the McGees’ stay, even Gildersleeve’s impromptu get-together to allow his friends to meet Leila (Shirley Mitchell) fails to dissuade Fibber from his constant needling and wisecracks.

In an essay on The Great Gildersleeve—an underrated situation comedy that has acquired a devoted and following among old-time radio fans today—OTR historian Elizabeth McLeod accurately points out how the spin-off eventually evolved into a completely different comedy show; a series with a strong emphasis on gentle, character-driven comedy as opposed to Fibber McGee & Molly’s vaudeville-influenced verbal slapstick. So I was very pleased at how well Fibber & Molly are integrated into the Gildersleeve proceedings; the fine script by series scribe John Whedon accurately captures their characters and their relationship with their former neighbor and still good friend. (It’s a shame that no one considered bringing the McGees back for an encore, though Fibber’s name was mentioned on the show from time to time.) For you trivia buffs in the audience—John Whedon’s grandson is Joss Whedon, creator-director-producer-writer of the hit television series Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and its spin-off, Angel.

Update: Charlie Summers at Nostalgic Rumblings has a nifty link to an mp3 file of Hal Peary narrating the tale of Gerald McBoing McBoing, the famed Dr. Seuss character whose speech is sans words but is made up of sounds instead. It's cute and clever, check it out.
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